


So Open My Eyes, and See

by keelover



Category: DCU - Comicverse, Red Robin (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Character Death, M/M, Villains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-06
Updated: 2012-03-06
Packaged: 2017-11-01 13:34:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/357380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelover/pseuds/keelover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Kon touched his mouth with his fingertips, closed his eyes, and tried to see what Tim saw.</i> Fill for <a> this</a> prompt over on LJ.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Open My Eyes, and See

So Open My Eyes, and See

_Gotham City.  
The Near Future._

 

Kon never wanted this. The future, what they had seen of it, they had wanted to change so desperately. They had changed it, but it was far from perfect, and it was far from painless. In fact, Kon was certain he had never experienced this type of torture before, and there had been a lot he had suffered through over the years. Tim, a super villain, thee super villain; nothing could ever lacerate so deep.  
  
The Kon of the future, he hadn't really been Kon, had merely been a clone Tim had conjured up, had fought on the same side as him, even if it wasn't the right one. Kon had destroyed many relationships, both professional and personal, to be standing face-to-face with his former teammate; friend. The gun in Tim's hand wasn't pointed at Kon, it was directed at himself, at his fragile psyche. Kon wouldn't allow the others to capture Tim, wouldn't allow them to hurt him in anyway. Kon, in his own right, had devolved into something less than noble. Tim smirked, the corner of his lips twitching at one side.  
  
“Something wrong, Conner?” Tim questioned, and Kon's eyes slipped loosely shut, heart tearing open for what seemed the hundredth time at the sound of Tim's voice. The pain would probably be more bearable if Tim didn't call him by that name, had stuck to the insults he could knowingly unleash. Clone being one of his favorites.  
  
“Everything, Tim. Everything's wrong,” Kon said, hoping to sense some sort of emotion in the other man, but to no avail.  
  
“That will change today, won't it?”  
  
Kon's eyes brimmed with remorseful tears. Tim's hair was longer now than it had ever been, unkempt pass his shoulder blades. The costume he wore now was an unscrupulous attack on his former, now deceased, mentor. The color scheme; however, hadn't changed. The red and black painted over him except for where his pale skin laid exposed, streaks of blood flowing freely.  
  
“You've killed so many people,” Kon said, voice near a howl as he worked overtime to keep control of what he said, and how he said it, but it was difficult.  
  
The wind shifted above their heads, winter in Gotham could leave anyone gasping for breath. The warehouse they stood in was merely a shell, dismantled piece by piece as Tim's crusade raged on. The insistent creaking of the unsteady structure gave Kon a headache, but his eyes were trained solely on the man in front of him; gun still pressed snug against his temple. Tim laughed, and it sounded bitter. And it sounded insane, like he was missing more than a few pieces of what use to hold him together.  
  
“Everyone dies, Conner. Everyone. No matter what. Everyone dies. I just helped a few along the way.”  
  
Kon shook his head, anger and sadness, and unforeseen loss rolling through him in waves. Tim was the only person who could cause this much confusion to well up inside of Kon, and he did, playing every advantage he had over him. “I don't understand!” Kon yelled, frustration spilling over. “You were the best of us. Our leader. I would have followed you to hell and back, Tim.”  
  
For a split second, Tim nearly looked as though he might lose his well sculpted composure, but the moment was fleeting, and Kon wished he could grasp it in his cold, bloodied hands. Kon knew he could end this at any moment, but Tim was well aware that he would not. “You already have,” Tim replied.  
  
“Then let's make this right,” Kon pleaded, taking a step forward as Tim took a step back, hitting the ledge of the window. Tim had kept his distance ever since his decent into madness had begun. No matter what, he would never allow Kon anywhere near him unless they were in hand-to-hand combat.  
  
“It will never be right, Superman. Nothing about me will ever be right again,” Tim said clearly, the haze clouding his eyes lifting for a brief moment. It was a truth Kon was unwilling to face.  
  
“Robin. It's time to end this,” Kon said, taking another step forward. He would never give Tim the satisfaction of calling him anything other than his first bestowed title.  
  
“I couldn't agree more,” Tim concurred, placing his finger on the trigger.  
  
“I won't play this game anymore, Tim,” Kon said, using his fully formed telekinesis to halt any movement Tim might have made. “I can't.”  
  
“Kon, release me,” Tim snapped, anger coating his features in an even mixture. Kon had never used it on him, no matter how many times he should have.  
  
“No,” Kon said, feet coming to rest mere inches away from the other man. Tim was his best friend, and his worst enemy. He had the best advantage over Kon; he had his love.  
“I've let you do so much to me, Tim. I've stood by and watched as you destroyed everything we ever loved. I let you get away with murder; first of our enemies, and then of our friends. I've stood inside buildings you've rigged to explode. I've taken a sword to the gut for you. I've taken a bullet in a weakened state for you, and all because I couldn't admit that you had changed. That you're not the same Tim I knew from before,” Kon said, hand shakily reaching out to caress Tim's cheek, flesh cold and hollow beneath his fingertips.  
  
“And now that you can admit it, Conner?” Tim questioned, domino mask torn down the center. Kon was aware of the many scars that lined Tim's young body, but there were much more now. It pained Kon to know he was the source of more than half of them.  
  
Kon could feel it, could feel Tim's heart rate pick up. Kon wasn't a fool, he knew Tim could manipulate his body just about any way he wanted to, but he hoped and he prayed that the current display wasn't just a ruse. Kon shut his eyes, he may have never killed anyone, may have never intentionally hurt anyone, but he figured he might as well consider himself a villain. A traitor to the people he was meant to protect. Kon's eyes opened slowly, meeting Tim's. Their eyes were both blue, but they were no where near the same. Kon's eyes were heavy; tired.  
  
And Tim. Tim's eyes were faded, and just about dead.  
  
“I still love you,” he admitted.  
  
Kon studied Tim's face, studied every imperfection, but never perceived a single flaw. Kon let go of his hold on Tim, prepared for anything the other man might throw at him. Tim was shaking, eyes wild and hyper focused as he wrapped his arms around Kon's broad shoulders, embracing him. Kon held him close, felt his body molded against his. He knew it wouldn't last.  
  
“Then,” Tim said, pausing as he removed the remaining piece of his mask, placing it in Kon's hand. “Let me go.” Kon pressed his mouth against Tim's cracked and bloodstained lips, something he feared he would never have the chance to do. Tim responded in earnest, gloved hand gripping the back of Kon's neck as they shared an intimate moment.  
  
Kon stood back, eyes caught between the space Tim use to occupy and the window he dove out of. Kon watched as Tim took to the rooftops, there weren't many of them anymore. Gotham was quickly becoming the next fallen city, held together by bits of tape and string. Kon remained still, wouldn't move until the wooden floor gave out beneath his feet, or something stronger moved him from his posted spot. The sound of a single gunshot drifted in and out, carried away with a heavy stroke of wind and dwindling snow.  
  
Kon looked down at the ripped and tattered cloth in his hand, dug his nails into the palm of his hand as he let out a resound and anguished scream. Kon tilted his head back, eyes drifting through the holes in the roof above his head and towards the gray, depleted sky. Kon touched his mouth with his fingertips, closed his eyes, and tried to see what Tim saw. A single tear slipped down his cheek unchecked, heart a tangled mess of pain and sickening relief. Kon couldn't see it.  
  
He wouldn't let the world fall.  
  
“Thank you, Tim.”


End file.
